Forums » General Roleplay » ToC: James Crowley v. Cameron Jones

A full moon hangs in a dark sky, shining pale illumination upon the crumbling ruin of an old, forgotten fortress, time and nature having strangled the once-proud bastion into an architectural corpse. Long ago picked clean by armies, robbers, and looters, once gutted by fire, only rubble a few thick walls remain, as well as one lone tower, stretching into the sky like a skeletal finger broken in twain.
A shimmering flash of light broke the haunting melancholy, leaving two unnatural combatants behind before the gloom closed in once again, leaving the full-armed fighters in the preternatural light.

Jones let out a sound much akin to a growl as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, not having far to go as the Cutlass had been moored for the night with him upon it. His eyes traveled down to his hands, his pug ugly face making the terrifying expression that those who called him friend knew was a smile, the bare tips of his fingers brushing over his heavily reinforced gloves, affectionately called his 'Knuckledusters'.
The horrid expression fell from his face and the alleged man's scowl returned, the ground around his boots frosting slowly as he sought to find the threat that he perceived.

The unearthly aura shrouded this being known most commonly as Ambrose as he stepped quietly among the ruins. His glowing red gaze, present from a combination of hunger and anger almost scrutintly eyeing his new surrounding. After a few moments however his gaze narrowed as his head jerked upon hearing a growling noise not too far away. A small smirk crossed his face as he quickly ascended a set of ruin stairs nearby and stopped atop of the wall they led too and stared down wards. He then smirked more as he laid eyes upon the troll like figure nearby and folded his arms over his chest.

"So...your my quarry for this lovely eve eh? You look like you'll be a fun challenge..."

Jones didn't so much as freeze at the sound of the voice as he simply ceased to move. After a moment, he turned towards the voice, his hands habitually flexing into fists once or twice before he crossed his arms as well, causing him to look almost as if he were a boulder painted to look like a man.
The quartermaster of the Cutlass made absolutely no expression as he looked over his opponent, though his face seemed to naturally settle into a angry, rocky scowl. Slowly, he spoke, his voice gravelly and low, knowing that the preternatural creature would hear him. "Pale skin, exquisite grace, tendency to look like a girl... Do they intentionally make vampires to look like boy lovers?"
Whether or not his comment inflamed the other combatant, Jones uncrossed his arm, flexing his fists and rolling his shoulders before he charged, what appeared to be a slow, lumbering run that none the less ate up ground quickly, his brutish frame crashing with loud footfalls while the air inside of his unclenched fists began to shimmer with heat.

(I'm so looking forward to this. I see a nasty supernatural slugfest, kind of like a Hulk/Superman fight. And, ah... You got some Ace in your Ambrose...)

He actually smirked a bit more at the figures comment as he too unfolded his arms.

"I can safely say in response to that that I am grateful I don't sparkle."

With that said, he tapped into his celerity discipline and quickly found his way down and right in the brutish figures face with his fist balled up and cocked back. As he would near the figure, he would launch his fist forward right at the beings face with all due intent of launching him back a good ways with the possible added repercussion of a bloody nose to boot.

(Oh I think we can do some superman meets hulk type deal. Heh. And it's more like there's some Ambrose in my Ace. Heh.)

Jones would have let the punch land on his nose, but he guessed that the vampire would have been strong enough to make him stumble back in the least, and the brute wanted to be right there in close, face to face and eye to eye. Instead, the former military man ducked his pugnacious face downward, catching the blow high on his forehead where it could skip off like steel upon granite, doing neither any good, but doing little damage as well.
Rather than lash out with a punch or a kick, Jones' gorilla-like arms moved to encircle the vampire, to wrap him in a spine cracking grip and crush him. Not one to do things in small or partial measures, Jones tried to use his thick skull like a battering ram into his opponent's body, likely to leave a small smear of blood from the small cut opened by the punch.

He quirked a brow for a hair of a second as his fist skipped off the man-beasts forehead as his arms encircled him and began squeezing down upon him. As he did so, his quick eyes glistened in the darkness taking advantage of his arm still being outstretched as drew it back harshly aiming an abrupt elbow to the back/side of his opponents head as a 'oof' sound escaped his lips from the accompanied head butt. Taking advantage of the now extremely close quarters he would also jerk a leg up suddenly aiming to jab his knee into the creatures kidney area as well.

Jones grunted at the blows to his head and kidneys, but his grip never faltered. With a strength that would kill snap a mortal man like a twig, the hulking pirate squeezed harder, adding another level of savagery into his attack by biting at the vampire, trying to use his apelike jaw to tear flesh from the body of the undead male.
Remembering some of his training from the Court, Jones dropped his weight while lifting up in an attempt to suplex the tall, dark-haired combatant, to smash his face and upper body into the ground without losing his grip or exerting less pressure on the vampire's thin body.

Being slammed in such a manner would have indeed knocked the very air from his lungs. If he needed to breath that is. To say the force of the impact didn't hurt would be incorrect however as Ambrose let out a grunt as his form crashed into the ground. Quickly thinking however, he would show no shame as his grip suddenly found it's way reaching for his opponents more sensitive male area of which, if he managed to get to them quickly enough, he would squeeze and twist tightly hoping to force a release from his opponent.

Edit: I just realized what ya meant when You said I had some Ace in my Ambrose...heh. *goes back and fixes all the posts*)

The look on the face of Jones as his particular assets were abused in such a way was one that would have been able to incite a heart attack in a healthy adult. The below the belt attack did work, however, the troll-man's grip on the vampire releasing stiffly, his hands frozen in a hooked position as his body dealt with the physical panic and shock.
Jones would likely be open for one singular attack before he forced himself it move, as long as the vampire acted quickly. Then the quartermaster would set about brutalizing his opponent as horrifically as feasible.

Tapping into his celerity discipline to attain an unnatural level of speed, he quickly reasserted himself upon his vertical base before suddenly dropping himself to one knee as he shot a closed fist downwards aiming to smash in his opponents face should the blow connect. As he did so, a slight flash would shimmer in his eyes as they filled with an absolute blood lust showing he wasn't holding back either and that the blow was indeed coming full force.

Jones' head rocked back from the blow, cracking a pave stone beneath his skull and mashing his lips into his teeth, splitting them. The blow failed to daze the brute, though it was harder than he'd been hit in a while. Giving the world's ugliest smile, Jones spat out a spray of blood directly towards his opponent's face, at the same time sweeping out an arm to try to knock the vampire off balance or the ground, the bulkier and darker male rolling to his feet and lashing out with clenched fists, repeated punches aimed towards head and body. The paler of the two might notice an oddity, in that with each successive swing, the temperature of Jones' fists would rise, and his gloves quickly beginning to smoke.

He shut his eyes as the spray of blood hit his face amd as a result was taken back down due to the sweeping arm and quickly rolled to his own feet as well and put himself quickly on the defensive bobbing and weaving to avoid the barrage of punches. He however failed to avoid them all as some still connected and knocked him back a little. He soon got himself out of range though and smirked a bit before raising a brow at the just noticed smoking gloves. He then glanced down at his upper garments and noticed singed and somewhat smoking parts of it and chuckled once more.

"So...what? You a flamer now? Don't blame ya. Cause that ugly mug wouldn't get you any women."

He then chuckled again before diving back into the fray leading off with a powerful right hook aimed at the side of camerons head of which he would then follow through with rather it hit or not by spinning full circle and aiming a powerful kick with his left foot to the same area.

The ugly mug in question became even uglier as the troll-like make sneered at the vampire, the horrid expression doing little to prove the statement false.
Getting back into the game, Jones' ducked his head and raised his shoulder, deflecting the punch into his ear, making it sting and right slightly, but doing little to offset the brute's bulk. The pirate was prepared to respond with a crushing uppercut when he perceived what his opponent was doing, and adjusted his strategy accordingly, the hulking male thinking that the fight would be over sooner than expected.
When the kick came Jones sought to block and absorb it, trapping the leg and getting his iron-banded grip upon it. Unless the vampire managed to slither his leg free, he'd receive a sympathetic smile from the quartermaster of the Cutlass before Jones started whipping him around much like a gorilla in a frenzy, slamming the pale male into walls, trees, rocks, and the ground until either the vampire was dead, unconscious, or the force of a swing actually tore him from Jones' merciless grip.